


A Brief History of the Artoris

by Zalphon



Category: Arphasia's Curse
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-23 23:13:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17089553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zalphon/pseuds/Zalphon
Summary: One of the last Artoris Shamans shares the rich history of his people fearing that it may be lost if he does not.





	A Brief History of the Artoris

**A Brief History of the Artoris**

_By Alexei Petrov, One of the Last Artoris Shamans_

The history of the Artoris dates back to the beginnings of Peliran.  It was in the beginning that the All-Maker spun his finger through the stars and wove from the threads of the cosmos a ball which would become our world, Peliran.  It was barren and utterly devoid of life in the beginning so he brushed his fingers across it and the stone surface came alive with all trees, mountains, valleys, rivers, oceans, and all the things that we recognize today.

 

The world was alive with all of these things and their spirits existed in harmony, but from the heavens descended great serpents who sought to lay claim to Peliran.  This caused great disharmony amongst the spirits and they consorted as to how best deal with the serpents.  It was decided that the Spirits of the Whitepeak Mountains would defend the world from the invaders.

 

The Whitepeak Mountain Spirits first engaged the Serpents as they were, but they were no match for the Serpents.  So they remade themselves into the Ancestor Bears.  The Bears fought off the Serpents and saved Peliran from their invasion, but not without great cost.  They were unable to return to the Peaks and were trapped as the beasts they had become to save Peliran.

 

The Ancestor Bears took upon themselves the mantle of the eternal guardians of Peliran, but they knew that they alone could not save this world from all the threats that would come upon it, so they birthed three Great Bears.  One of fur white like snow, one of fur brown like bark, and one of fur black like night.  These three took it upon themselves to relieve the Ancestor Bears of their watch.

 

The Great Bears each birthed more of their kind and the world was covered in bears of White, Brown, and Black who served to defend it from any who would defile it, but this would not always be as it was Serpents of the Heavens once again invaded.  It was the Brown Bears who waged war against them most heavily with the Black Bears joining in where they could, being the weaker of the two, but the White Bears were surprisingly absent.

 

It was discovered that the White Bears had retreated to the North and agreed to stay neutral in the War so long as their territory remained untouched by the Serpents and peace between the Three Bear Colors was brought to an end as the Browns sought justice for their unnecessarily fallen brethren and the Whites refused to be judged by them.  War broke out and the relationships between the Whites and the rest of the Bears remained forever tarnished.

 

The Great Bears sought to bring peace to their offspring, but they could not, and when they could not, they surrendered themselves to death as the Ancestor Bears of before.  Since then, the White Bears have been the sworn enemies of the Browns and Blacks, but the Blacks do not dare tread so far north as to encounter the Whites knowing that they stand no chance, but the Browns do not abandon their Little Brothers and fight on their behalf.

 

Time went on and from the Browns came we, the Artoris.  We began existence as simple men and in unity with the Browns, but peace did not last for us in the Tundra.  We were met with resistance from the Kartov-Zan.  The great frost giants of the Whitepeak Tundra emerged from stone cities and raided our tribes, enslaving those they could and killing those who wouldn’t obey.  Our tribes and families were broken and our bonds with our ancestors were broken.

 

It was not until Valentin Mikhailov organized a slave revolt that we were freed from our bondage and escaped into the Tundra to reconnect with our ancestors.  With the help of the Browns of the Tundra, we waged war against the Kartov-Zan, but little did we know that they had enlisted the aid of the Whites.  The Tundra ran red with blood of both Kartal-Zan and Artoris for many seasons after that, but ultimately the war broke when Mikhailov rallied us to go into the heart of Vadam Zan and killed King Tarull-Zan. 

 

With Tarull-Zan felled and the Artoris on a warpath killing every Kartov in their path, the Kartov refugees retreated to Vadam Kul where they were taken by Clan Kul.  For a period of time, the Artoris lived in peace once more.

 

Centuries passed of relative prosperity and limited interaction between the Artoris and the Kartov-Kul except for the occasional skirmish, but even this was not always perfect.  There came a schism in the Artoris society when it was discovered that a group of Shamans had turned their back on the Browns for the Whites.  This resulted in their exile and the formation of the Whitefang Tribe who skirmished with the mainstream Artoris society for decades before finally being wiped out by a harsh winter and bad hunting.

 

It was after the Azavaelians had their difficulties regarding the Necromancers that their refugees fled to Otolier and found only continued persecution there.  It was then that they trekked north beyond the Whitepeaks and into the Artoris Tundra where they met our people.  At first, it was a prosperous relationship between our people and the Islanders, but such things did not last forever. 

 

The Necromancers betrayed my people and raised our dead and when we sought to justice, they ventured to the underground city of Vadam Kul and aligned themselves with the Kartov-Kul.  Together, they stormed from below and swept across the Tundra, nearly wiping us out before the Necromancers turned on the Kartov-Kul.

 

For a brief time, the Kartov-Kul were enslaved by the Necromancers, but it did not last forever.  One of the Kartov-Kul, Tarik, had learned their magics and taught it to the other Kartov-Kul slaves and they revolted against the Necromancers.  They killed the Necromancers and destroyed our most ancient cities and King Tarik-Kul rose the Necromancers and my brothers from the dead and forged a necropolis in the Artoris Tundra.

 

I mourn for my people.  I mourn for what fate has befallen us, but I will not leave the Tundra, for it is my home.  We who are left are few in number, but so were the Ancestor Bears who pushed back the Serpents.  We may be few, but we will never surrender the Tundra so long as the Spirits stand with us and we still draw breath!  For Artoris!

 


End file.
